


Ask away (but don't expect an answer)

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Word of the day [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Complete, Derek Hale is a Softie, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Derek is Not a Failwolf, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Hurt Stiles, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Minor Stiles Stilinksi/Malia Tate, Nogitsune Effects, Oblivious Stiles, Protective Derek, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Pack, Tired Stiles Stilinski, Very Minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is exhausted and in constant pain from Malia's midnight visits, and doesn't latch on to an awkward admission like he normally would.</p>
<p>Derek finds out about Malia scratching up Stiles' back and protects him so Stiles can heal and get back to his usual self. Even if it means answering Stiles' questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask away (but don't expect an answer)

**Author's Note:**

> Word of the day - Tautology

"I'm gonna kill him 'til he's dead! I literally cannot take it any more!"

"Stiles, calm down, it's not that bad."

"Finstock likes you, Scott, and besides, you don't get the worst of it. You're off on the field playing lacrosse with the team, and I'm stuck on the bench listen to his tautology all night long! I'm going to shove my crosse down his throat just so I don't have to hear him talk again."

"Coming from you, Stilinski, that's definitely saying something," Derek muttered, looking up from his book and over to them.

"Shut up, Derek; Scott and I were having a private conversation," Stiles snapped.

"In the middle of a pack meeting," Derek pointed out, raising his eyebrow.

Stiles turned, scowling at him. " _What_  pack meeting? There is  _no meeting_. In fact, there's _no_   _pack_. Where's Lydia, or Kira, or Liam? Hell, where's Peter? Y'know, actual supernatural beings who  **are**  a part of the pack?" Stiles asked, looking between Derek and Scott.

"Lydia's with Parrish, Kira's getting ready for our date tonight, Liam's out with Mason, and Peter's with Malia. Which is probably not a good thing," Scott admitted, frowning.

"Oh great, just great. You just had to go and let her spend time with Peter, didn't you?! It's bad enough she's fucking tearing up my back at night, but after spending time with him? I'll be lucky to wake up in the morning," Stiles muttered.

"Tearing up your back?" Derek echoed, frowning as he looked at Stiles intently.

"You didn't tell Derek?" Stiles asked, looking at Scott.

"No. It's your information to tell. Besides, I didn't want to be the one to tell Derek that Malia's sneaking into your room at night," Scott added.

"Uh, what?" Stiles asked in confusion.

Scott's eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, and Derek looked away entirely, his ears turning pink.

"I... have to go. Kira's probably ready for our date," Scott said, high tailing it out of the loft before either one could answer.

"What's Scott mean by that, Derek?" Stiles demanded.

"Nothing. Let me see your back. What's that coyote doing to you?" Derek muttered, manhandling Stiles until he could bare his back and see the numerous scratches. "Fuck."

Okay, Stiles knew it was bad - his back stung so much that he'd had to switch to a messenger bag because he couldn't risk his backpack irritating it - but for Derek to swear? Now he knew it was truly bad.

"Uh, she's not going to be able to turn me like that, is she?" Stiles asked, concerned enough now to voice one of his numerous worries.

"No, she won't be able to. You should tell Malia to stop visiting; you need to heal your back and you need to rest. You look like shit, Stiles."

"Gee, thanks, Derek. Glad we had this chat."

"I'm not saying it to be mean, Stiles, I'm simply stating a fact. You look like you haven't had a decent sleep in weeks."

Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Try months, big guy. You getting kidnapped actually had me worried, you know."

Derek nodded briefly, then rested both of his hands on Stiles' back, the younger man starting in surprise.

"What're you do- oohh, don't stop. Ever. Fuck, that feels good," Stiles groaned, endorphins rushing through him as Derek leeched his pain.

Derek leeched Stiles' pain for a good fifteen minutes, continuing until Stiles was a pliable mess of bones and skin, swaying on his feet precariously. Derek held Stiles up carefully, then picked him up entirely when Stiles didn't seem to want to move.

"Think you overdid it, big guy," Stiles slurred, licking his lips and blinking slowly. "S'good though. Thanks," he murmured.

Derek placed Stiles on the bed carefully, moving to take his shoes off before helping him get under the blankets. Stiles fell asleep immediately.

Stiles woke up a few hours later, still feeling drowsy. Something had woken him up, and it took Stiles a moment to realise that he was still in Derek's bed, and he could hear growls coming from beyond the bedroom. Malia was out there growling at Derek - Stiles recognised her growl easily after all of the times it had been directed at him - and Derek was growling right back at her, it seemed.

"You're not going in there, Malia. Go home," Derek snapped.

"No! Stiles is mine, and I want to see him!"

"He's not yours, you little scavenger. He's definitely not yours to scratch up like a toy, and you've exhausted him to the point where he's not even following through on his questions like usual. You're draining him, Malia, and it's going to kill him."

"He's mine," Malia snarled.

Derek sighed so loudly that Stiles could hear it as plain as day. He was obviously trying to think of a way to get rid of Malia since his (surprisingly reasonable, actually, Stiles though) argument didn't seem to be working.

"No Malia,  _he's mine_ ," Derek said, snarling so deeply and fiercely that Stiles actually moved to sit up, worried that a fight would break out between them.

Malia didn't fight though, instead she whimpered and if the sound of the door opening meant anything, ran straight out of the loft.

Derek closed the door behind her and went to his bedroom. He'd heard Stiles wake up, but Malia had been too caught up in her arguing to hear it for herself, and Derek worried about what Stiles had heard. He'd tried to be careful with his words, but that little werecoyote made his blood boil; imagine, scratching up Stiles like he was nothing more than a scratching post, and her saying that Stiles was  _hers_  when Stiles sure as hell had made it clear that he didn't belong to anyone.

"You 'kay, Der?" Stiles asked, yawning as he settled back on the bed again.

"Fine. How are you feeling?" Derek asked, standing beside the bed and trying to take Stiles' form in with a professional eye (even though he had little to no idea what he was doing, Derek could smell a fever, and that had to count for something, right?).

"Need more of your hand thing. Sleep's good," Stiles mumbled.

Derek knew that if Stiles was running at 100% (or, since it was Stiles, more like 250% on an average day), he never would have let the conversation go without analysing and questioning everything that had been said. The fact that he'd let this afternoon's admission from Scott slide with barely two questions demonstrated just how exhausted Stiles was. He sat beside Stiles and began to leech his pain again, watching as his eyes drooped and closed. Stiles tugged Derek onto the bed beside him, and Derek couldn't bring himself not to lie down there beside him. It was a moment of weakness, but he was still leeching Stiles' pain, and the proximity helped. Honest.

"Thanks, Der-bear," Stiles mumbled, sleep claiming him a few seconds later.

It was the second time Stiles had thanked him that day, and depressingly, Derek realised it was the second time he'd been thanked for anything that year. He stayed awake by Stiles' side and made sure that he continued to sleep peacefully through the night without interruption.

...

The next day, Stiles woke up to find a pile of clothes at the end of the bed and Derek gone. He'd woken up later than he usually did (6am starts were becoming the norm thanks to a certain visitor), and Stiles had to run around, even forgoing a shower in his rush to get to school.

"What's wrong?" Stiles hissed at Scott, seeing him staring at him for the better part of attendance.

"You smell."

"Geez, Scott, could you be more blunt about it? I had to skip a shower this morning, turn off your wolf senses for a bit or something," Stiles muttered with a half-hearted glare.

"No, not that. Well, not entirely that," Scott amended, wrinkling his nose briefly. "You smell like Derek. Like full on," he added.

"Slept in his bed last night," Stiles said, shrugging.

He didn't mention that Derek had slept in the bed with him at his own insistence, because that was a conversation Stiles  _really_  didn't want to be having right now. Not with Scott, at least.

Malia walked into the classroom, late and bringing attention to herself even more when she stopped abruptly in the doorway and just stared at Stiles. He frowned and motioned for her to come inside, but Mr. Yukimura had already noticed, and called Malia's name.

"Malia? Take a seat. Now, please," he added firmly when she didn't move.

Malia made a small whimpering noise - similar to the one she'd made last night, Stiles realised - and sat perched on the edge of her usual seat beside Stiles. She was tense and looked ready to run if anyone so much as sneezed, and Stiles frowned at her reaction.

"Hey, Malia. You okay?" Stiles asked softly, reaching out for her arm.

She pulled away abruptly, eyes wide as saucers, and gulped visibly. "Fine. Don't... Please, I don't want to upset - "

"Stiles, would you like to share your conversation with the rest of the class?" Mr. Yukimura threatened.

(Seriously, that was kind of a dumb threat for Mr. Yukimura to make, especially considering what Stiles knew about the supernatural happenings in Beacon Hills, not to mention Kira and Noshiko.)

"Just discussing World War II, Mr. Yukimura," Stiles answered.

Mr. Yuimura frowned at him disapprovingly, Scott stiffened, Lydia glowered, and Kira shook her head at him. Malia just looked confused.

(Okay, fine, he wasn't allowed to make jokes about it then.)

The bell for first period rang and before Stiles could question her further, Malia was out of the door before the bell finished ringing.

...

Stiles ended up at Derek's loft again that afternoon, and he didn't even wait for Derek to reply to his greeting before launching into questions about Malia's behaviour, and Scott's weird faces over the course of the day.

"Are you actually asking me questions, or are you using me as a sounding board, Stiles?" Derek asked, interrupting his rant about scents and showers, and with good reason since he was blushing pink again.

"Both?" Stiles offered weakly.

Derek rolled his eyes and motioned for Stiles to continue talking. Thankfully, Stiles chose a different topic. Derek managed to steer Stiles over to the lounge, and somehow got him started on his homework while he read on the other end of the lounge. Stiles made noise while he studied, clicking his pen, popping the highlighter lids, tapping his foot, and drumming his fingers, and while it was the kind of noise that most people loathed and told him off for within seconds, Derek didn't complain.

A few hours later, Stiles finished his homework for the night and frowned, realising that he'd probably outstayed his welcome big time, and Derek still hadn't thrown him out. As his father was working late again, Stiles ended up staying for dinner and sleeping in Derek's bed again, pulling Derek onto the mattress with him as he leeched his near-constant pain.

Another night passed without being woken up in the middle of his slumber to be faced with a scratchy werecoyote. Again, Stiles woke up to a pile of clothes at the end of the bed and Derek gone. He made sure to shower that morning, scrubbing his skin extra hard for Scott's delicate nose, and then headed to school. Despite the shower, both Scott and Malia were still weird around him, and to top it all off, now Liam was looking at him weird too.

Stiles had lacrosse practice that afternoon, the first with Kira as goalie (Scott was grinning his head off, looking so proud of his fox girlfriend; he didn't even stop smiling when she caught the balls he threw at the net). Stiles actually managed to get the ball closer to the goal today, and he didn't feel as bad as he usually did after running. (He still didn't feel  _great_ , but it was an improvement on almost puking last month.)

Without really thinking about it, Stiles left lacrosse practice and went straight to the loft. Derek didn't seem annoyed at his presence, and again, managed to get Stiles studying after he'd had a general fifteen minute rant about his day. He finished his homework, cooked dinner for them (Derek was being nice to him and while that was weird enough in and of itself, Stiles figured he could cook in return for not being thrown out of the loft), and fell asleep on Derek's bed with Derek curled up around him again.

It continued to happen, until one day Stiles realised that he actually hadn't seen his father in a whole week because he'd spent all of his time at Derek's loft or with Derek. He went home that afternoon, cooked a healthy meal for his dad because god knew what he'd been eating in the last week, and was woken up in the middle of the night by a werewolf crawling into his bed. He knew it was Derek because he immediately started leeching his pain, and there was no one that could do brooding in the dark quite like Derek.

"In the morning, you're telling me what Scott meant about that thing, all right?" Stiles muttered. "And then you're telling me why Malia's acting weird. And why Liam keeps referring to me and you as me-and-you."

"All right. Now go to sleep," Derek murmured in return, face buried against the crook of Stiles' neck.

He fell asleep easily, and in the morning, for the first time in months, Stiles woke up to find Derek still in bed beside him.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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